


Jesus Christ

by ondoyant



Series: Hung!Wardo [2]
Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Barebacking, Dirty Talk, M/M, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ondoyant/pseuds/ondoyant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Not The Sun. Part two of the kink meme fill. Lots of dirty talk and subtle power play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jesus Christ

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by iamspaghetti. Not edited or cleaned up, though I'll likely do that in the future. Titles taken from Brand New songs that seemed to fit. Listen to 'em.

Mark is impatient. There's this air surrounding the entire place, filled with people who think they've made the greatest contribution to the world in the past ten or fifteen years (he wonders if any of them ever say it out loud during the forced, pompous conversations they have because, surely, somebody would disagree "no, I think you mean I'm the revolutionary in the room," prior to an all-guns-blazing sort of throw down with words because they're all fucking nerds who would never throw punches despite how much money sits in their bank accounts). 

Mark is used to these things. He's been to so many events in the last few years that it is, oddly enough, becoming second nature. He always comes alone now. There's no Chris or Dustin to tag along, and he hasn't spoken a word to Sean in six months (texts saying "Bro, totally saw you're twin!!!" totally don't count, because the misuse of "you're" alone is enough to make Mark nauseated).

So he's alone, and unable to focus on the woman talking to him about how her organization provided water for a thousand kids in Kenya last year while turning a profit of sixty million dollars simultaneously. Mark provides life changing moments for over eight-hundred million people all around the world every second of every day and is currently worth approximately nineteen billion dollars. 

He wants to tell the woman to shut up, because her awful up-do is seriously fucking up his line of sight. 

Because just over her shoulder is what he's after.

Eduardo is less than twenty feet away, dressed like a dapper asshole, and charming a group of about six people who had been scowling at Mark all night. 

Mark is already turned on and they haven't actually spoken all night. 

Well, except for the incident in the bathroom. 

Because when Mark had excused himself after the CFO of some company from Dubai spoke for way too long to piss, he hadn't expected to be washing his hands at the sink and for Eduardo to press up behind him. "Later," he had breathed, before turning around and leaving without another word and yeah, Mark knew.

Their conference was at a hotel. It was only practical. 

The sex stopped in the six months following the lawsuit, but now it's--

Mark knows it's a regular thing and that neither of them have dated anybody seriously. He doesn't see it stopping anytime soon. It's not a relationship and it isn't not a relationship because, he figures, anytime people know each other and engage in some sort of activity it's still some form of a relationship and--

he doesn't analyze anything else.

They fuck on a semi-regular basis whenever they're in the same country. Sometimes they'll meet in the middle if they're on opposite coasts, which is likely, and Mark isn't ashamed to say that they've fucked in St. Louis and Tulsa more than they have in Palo Alto or Singapore (Mark flew down once for a thing and ended up staying a week, mostly because Eduardo was still pretty pissed off at him at the time and the sex was fucking incredible). 

But Eduardo turns now, catches his eye for the briefest second, and it's Mark who is pissed now. Because all anybody is talking about is how Eduardo isn't a US citizen now, he's just fucking renounced it like it's no big deal and fuck him for making it about business, it just makes their arrangement potentially more impossible and god damn it Mark is not willing to give up Eduardo's cock. 

He excuses himself from the woman with the ridiculous company (a thousand kids? please, she's pocketing too much money to call it much of a charity), and tries not to stare at Eduardo as he exits the room, double-checking to make sure his room key is in his pocket. 

Eduardo used to be angry. He made Mark wait in a hotel room for four hours once in Seattle after they attended different conferences the same night. Now he knows that Eduardo is twenty steps behind him, obvious if anybody thought twice about it, but they're idiots so they won't. 

Nobody knows that Eduardo's cock is going to be pushing into him after an elevator ride and a staggering lack of formalities. Nobody knows how Eduardo will make him beg for it if he feels like it, reducing Mark to a blinding mess of wantwantwant.

He has to wait for the elevator. Eduardo catches up, but stands at the elevator next to his. There's four, they're waiting for the two in the middle. They don't speak at first.

"Eight-oh-seven," Mark says when the door to his elevator opens. He knows Eduardo hears him, but he doesn't make eye contact when the door closes.

I'm going to fuck you so hard, Eduardo texts him between the fourth and fifth floor. 

And then he's opening his door and Eduardo is behind him, pushing the door closed quickly and pressing Mark against the wall.

"You kept doing that thing all night, where you bite your lip. It's your tell, you fucking dick," Eduardo tells him, sounding about as angry as he is turned on. 

It worked. Mark feels triumphant.

"I don't even know what you mean," he tries, but it sounds so smug.

Eduardo's kissing on his neck and reaching to undo his pants, and Mark's going for the top button of Eduardo's shirt but his stupid suit jacket keeps getting in the way.

"Just fucking get naked, this is so--" Eduardo says, stepping back to toe off his shoes and starts working on his own pants and shirt and Mark is just kind of watching before Eduardo shoots him this look like, fucking get with it already, and Mark does.

Wardo pushes Mark back onto the bed before he's completely out of his pants and he stumbles a little bit. Eduardo's cock is half hard, not quite as turned on as Mark hoped, and. 

"Can't wait for you to open me up," he says, Eduardo on top of him and kissing down his throat in columns. He's alternating between kisses and scrapes of his teeth, making Mark shudder. "It's been six weeks, Wardo. Six fucking weeks, I'm going to be so tight. You're going to have to finger me first, stretch me open so I can take your cock," and Eduardo groans. Mark feels his cock twitch against his hip, and he's doing something right.

He reaches down and wraps a loose fist around Eduardo's dick, giving him a soft squeeze and chuckling when Eduardo pushes his hips forward. 

It's been six weeks, they aren't going to waste time on foreplay. 

"I'm going to make you sit up against the headboard and I'm going to fuck myself on your thick cock, just bounce on it and let you watch. Maybe I'll use your tie to tie your hands up so you don't have control, you'd be so fucking angry because I'd keep pulling off, keep leaving you right on the edge," he continues, but he's cut off when Eduardo smacks his ass. 

Eduardo sits up, back on his knees, and wraps Mark's legs around his waist. Mark can feel the head of Eduardo's cock pressing up against the underside of his balls, sliding against the crack of his ass. 

"I think you're forgetting who is in charge here." His words are dark, crisp and clear and Mark shivers over it. He's hard, so fucking hard, cock flush against his stomach. "You've been jerking off over thoughts of this for six weeks, you're not going to risk me walking out of here. You want it too bad. I shouldn't even finger fuck you first, I should just make you take it. Bare." 

Mark's hips thrust up at that. He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, eyes locking with Eduardo's. 

They've fucked without a condom over the years, though it's been rare. He knows Eduardo has slept with three other people other than Mark in the last six years, but the last one was three years ago and they've both been tested since. So condoms are a formality, a barrier, and Mark wants-- He fucking wants.

"You like that?" Eduardo asks him, and reaches around to smack his hand against Mark's ass again. 

"Fuck, yeah," Mark groans, tempted to reach down and grab his own cock but he knows better. Before he even starts to move his hand, Eduardo's there and grabbing his wrists. He pins them down above Mark's head, and Mark tightens his legs around Eduardo's waist to keep himself up. Eduardo's other hand moves to slide up Mark's stomach and his chest, finally to his mouth, where he pushes two fingers in past Mark's lips. 

Mark takes them in greedily, sloppily, sucking on them and pushing his tongue against the digits for a moment too short because suddenly they're there, pressing against his hole.

"You want my cock inside of you, you want to feel me come," Eduardo says. It isn't a question.

"Want you to fill me up," Mark admits, flushed and needy and aching. He's so hard. 

"You'll text me tomorrow and complain you can't sit without fidgeting, and you'll still be such a needy boy next time. You're such a slut for me."

"Your cock," Mark gasps, "it's so fucking--" he stops and gasps when Eduardo's fingers rub against his hole, not inside, but harder than before like he's just going to tease Mark because he can. 

"I wonder if you could take me without lube," Eduardo says, and he can't because Eduardo's cock is fucking huge, but the thought makes him whimper. Eduardo's hand frees his, and he's watching Eduardo fumble for lube. 

He doesn't put much into his palm, but he allows Mark's legs to drop from around his waist so he can slick up his cock. 

It's tan, even Eduardo's cock is darker than Mark's most tan body part, and he fucking loves it. He loves the contrast of their skin, he loves the way Eduardo knows and puts on a show for him, the way he amps Mark up to unimaginable degrees. 

He's electric.

"Turn over," Eduardo says. 

"No," Mark argues.

It's always like this, the control for power.

They both know Mark will give in, but there's always a chance he won't and it turns them both on so much. 

"You're going to be a good boy and turn over so I can fuck you so hard you can't breathe." 

Mark is sold.

"Yeah, fuck, yeah, yeah," he's groaning and turning over, ass in the air, so fucking exposed. 

Mark gives up on Eduardo actually ever kissing his mouth-- he's fighting to take whatever he can get. 

Eduardo thrusts against his ass for friction, and something is ringing loudly in his ears. 

"You want me?" Eduardo asks.

"Y-yeah, yes, please, fuck," he chokes out, desperate. It's a desperate situation. 

"Fuck," Eduardo hisses, like he didn't expect Mark to give in so easily.

Eduardo moves a hand to the base of his cock to rub against him, barely pressing against Mark's hole teasingly. Mark pushes his ass back, needy and vulnerable but headstrong all at once, going after what he wants like he always does.

Eduardo spreads his cheeks, breathing ragged, and the air is thick with want. Mark looks back, craning his neck, and Eduardo is staring down between them. Mark can tell his pupils are blown, blown, blown.

Eduardo pushes in, not even finger fucking him first, and Mark's breathing hitches. He's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to--

"Jesus Christ," Eduardo groans, pushing in inch by inch without mercy. Mark loves this, he loves the burn and the ache and Eduardo is so hard and his cock is hot and--

"Oh my god," he exhales, trying to breathe through it. It's entirely too much. It stings and burns and there's nothing between them, nothing but skin, and that speaks volumes about a level of trust that he isn't going to fucking analyze because they could fuck other people but they aren't and it's just them and Eduardo's fucking big, thick cock splitting him in two.

Eduardo bottoms out, and Mark reaches for his own cock, stroking quickly. 

"Lean up," Eduardo says, and the second Mark goes to lean up on his knees Eduardo pulls out and thrusts in hard, making him yelp and his eyes water.

"Fucking let me move, fuck, you're such an asshole," but he's groaning it all out and Eduardo chuckles deep and dark and full of confidence.

"I'll fucking call and have you deported," and it's a sore spot, fuck that.

"Business decision," Eduardo returns, thrusting forward almost gently until Mark finds his balance. Eduardo tugs on Mark's hair and turns him just enough to finally kiss him, a dirty and wanton kiss, and he's gripping Mark's hip and kissing him and biting on his bottom lip and suddenly he's thrusting forward hard, shallow, hard thrusts and Mark's cock is leaking all over his palm as he strokes himself quickly in time with Eduardo's thrusts. 

"Fuck your business decisions, they're worse than ever," he shoots back, not even sure how he's able to form words.

Eduardo moves so his hands slide down Mark's arms, "fucking asshole," he groans, and grabs both of Mark's hands to pull them back and away from his body. Eduardo is holding his arms back and holding him in place, they're tilted back slightly, and Mark's weight is resting on Eduardo enough so that Eduardo is deep inside him now.

Mark spreads his knees out on the bed to open up more. The head of Eduardo's cock makes contact with his prostate and he cries out, "fuck, fuck, fuck, there," and Eduardo purposely shifts so that it doesn't happen again because he's such a fucking asshole.

"I'm going to lean back and let you ride me like this, too bad I won't see your face, but--" and Eduardo does, he leans back and gives Mark his hands back. Mark puts his hands behind him on Eduardo's chest and moves his hips, thrusts himself up and down and rolls his body so he's taking all of Eduardo and getting him right where he needs him.

The sound of skin against skin is all around him, pulling him even more into it, making him pant and curse and Eduardo is right there with him, covered in sweat and pulling him down onto his big, long, thick cock so hard, hard, hard.

"Want you to come in my ass," he's begging, because they both know he wants it and they like dirty talk like this sometimes (a lot of the time), because they can't get enough of this.

"Six weeks," Wardo groans, and Mark doesn't want to ever wait six weeks again or six months or six days.

"Fucking fill me up, please, fuck, I--" he groans.

Eduardo pushes Mark up and pulls out and flips them around so fucking fast that Mark's spinning and suddenly Eduardo is there, pushing back into him, fucking filling him back up. Mark gasps out, it's loud and people might be able to hear but he doesn't fucking care, he doesn't--

"C'mon, c'mon," he's begging, pleading, and he's stroking his own cock so hard, so fast, it almost hurts and it does, it's blinding white pain and pleasure and searing need--

"Fucking come for me," Wardo demands, and that's it, Mark is so fucking gone and he's blanking out, just seeing spots of white and pink and blue around Eduardo as Eduardo thrusts in harder and harder, fucking him through it and hitting his prostate every fucking time and he's shaking and whimpering and he's such a fucking mess over this, such a needy, fucked up, fucked open mess.

"Goddamn," Eduardo curses and then he's coming in waves, Mark can feel every fucking thing. Nobody ever mentions how possessive it feels, how fucking intimate it is and how he feels like he's being marked in a way he won't ever be able to erase. Eduardo's coming in him and he's shaking and groaning and his hips jerk without rhythm now, unable to keep thrusting through it but it's slippery and slick and wet now, where he's so fucking filled. Eduardo reaches down and pushes a finger against Mark's hole, and he's so stretched and filled but he gets a finger in anyway and Mark's hips lift, and he cries out "ah, ah, ah," it's too fucking much and it burns and he's so sensitive. Eduardo smirks, and Mark is a fucking puddle of nothing. 

"You're such a fucking piece of shit," Mark hisses, but there's no venom there and Wardo just laughs at him, so fucking pleased.

When he finally pulls out Mark winces, he's so sore, but Eduardo presses three fingers back up inside him. It's too soon for him to get hard again, but he's so fucked open and breathless.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Eduardo breathes, and his fingers are slick with his own come when he pulls them out and grips at Mark's hips instead, Mark can feel them messy and smearing there, but he likes it. He enjoys the dirty, filthy, dark aspect of all of it.

He feels so fucking claimed.

"I feel so fucking. I feel--" he starts, and Eduardo is kissing along his jaw now, so tenderly, and he's on the edge of something so earth-shattering he fucking swears it. "I feel so claimed," he finally admits, and it's so much bigger than sex and this hotel room and this shitty city in the Midwest. 

Wardo's mouth closes over his before he can continue and make an ass out of himself, and Mark catches it loud and clear when he answers Mark in between wet, soft, sloppy kisses. "You are," and Mark's heart stutters before recovering. 

They're both smiling into it now, kissing languidly for what could be minutes or hours and Mark's eyes sting and Eduardo's lips are swollen and full and bruised. 

"Have breakfast with me tomorrow," he suggests. They usually don't, not after things go further than sex because they're both fucked up and difficult and stubborn and there's so much bad history. 

But Eduardo says, "okay," like it's the simplest thing in the world. 

"And the next day, too," he adds.

"Okay," Eduardo replies. 

"In Palo Alto," Mark supplies.

"Okay," Eduardo says again. 

"And then the next d--" 

"Shut the fuck up, Mark. I'm trying to kiss you," he says in a dry tone that sounds more like Mark than himself, and Mark says "I've rubbed off on you," and Eduardo slaps against his hip.

"I'll have breakfast with you until you kick me out okay just fucking let me kiss you," Eduardo demands.

So Mark does.


End file.
